Qualms
by Always a Bookworm
Summary: It had never been about love. It had never even been about need. It had always been about desire. No, Ryou didn’t have any qualms about what he was doing. Minorshipping drabble, for Comicbookfan.


**This idea hit me in a surprising bout of inspiration yesterday, and I scribbled it down- it was finished in about half an hour. It's for a pairing that I've never written before, and although I like it, I never thought I'd write it. But this plot bunny kept beating me around the head, and it worked best with this pairing, so here we are! XD!**

**I know this is another stupidly short drabble- I promise I'll have something longer up soon! I've got a pretty epic darkshipping in the works, but my plotbunnies for it have all deserted me and run away to Egypt. Lucky things, on holiday while I'm stressing about exams... *grumbles***

**Warnings: Slash, mentions of sex (nothing graphic at all though), and the usual drabbly weirdness!**

**Pairing: Minorshipping (Ryuuji x Ryou) implied pyscho (Marik x Bakura) and Ryuuji x ? (You have to guess! ^^)**

**For: Comicbookfan, because she got me interested in this pairing, and she's just continually awesome. Hope you like the pairing, Commi! XD! And the angst, cos I know you love angst!!**

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Ryou never had any qualms about what he was doing.

He was never phased by it. Never questioned it. Always accepted it quietly, just like he did everything else, and got on with it.

And, above all, he never _ever_ thought about it.

Because if he thought about it then the guilt would start, and it would be hard to stop, and then the tears, and the loneliness and the pain would all crash back over him like a wave and he would have destroyed his only chance…

No. Ryou never thought about it.

He was perfectly aware that this was a temporary solution; he wasn't stupid. It would come to an end eventually, and when that time came he'd just have to deal with it. But when that did happen, Ryou always thought bitterly, it would never be on his terms.

Ryou didn't think he could end it.

He was in too deep by now, too addicted to stop taking the drug, too hooked on the thrill to ever stop and think.

So whenever Ryuuji turned up at his door, desperate, lonely, drunk or bored, Ryou always invited him in without question.

He would offer him a drink, which Ryuuji always declined.

They didn't talk. Just waited to see who would make the first move.

(It was always Ryuuji. Because that's all he'd come for, after all).

So eventually Ryuuji would purposefully, and without any of the seductive charm Ryou had watched him use on so many others, walk up to him and seize him in a savage, violent kiss. Ryou would pull away just long enough to turn off the lights, never really knowing why he bothered (he supposed it was some sort of cover up, some attempt to hide in the darkness).

And it went on from there.

Rough touches against heated skin.

Clothes torn away from the body.

Harsh kisses on swollen lips.

The bedroom door slamming, and the creak of the bed springs as Ryuuji pushed him down onto the bed.

It was always the same, this routine. And Ryou always played along, because he'd had a taste of the drug and as much as he tried to deny it, it had felt so good…

So he allowed it to continue.

At least once a week Ryuuji would turn up at his apartment, and it would happen. He would lie alone in the twisted sheets afterwards and stare up at the ceiling whilst Ryuuji gathered his clothes together and slipped away without a word.

Ryou became used to closing his mind down and refusing to think.

He became used to the stab of anger or hurt or _something_ in his heart every time he heard the front door close as Ryuuji left satisfied with what he had got, ignoring the fact (or not knowing) that he left Ryou aching for something other than those bitter, angry nights they shared.

He became used to the way Bakura would always stand in his doorway the next morning and frown. "This is ridiculous," he always said flatly, with a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. "Stop being such an idiot. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

And he got used to the way he would tear his eyes away from his yami (who was only trying to help him, really) and stare up at the ceiling, and mutter bleakly, "You're one to talk."

And Bakura would always flinch with anger, and reply with a harsh edge to his voice, "This isn't about me- I can detach myself from it, you can't! This will destroy you eventually, but if you can't behave like an adult then it's not my problem." Then he would leave, giving up until the next time.

Ryou would curl up in a ball watching the sunlight begin to filter through the curtains, and wonder when Ryuuji would next turn up at his apartment.

Because it was just sex.

There was nothing to feel guilty about.

Nothing at all.

Bakura was doing exactly the same thing as he was, but with Marik. And Bakura was fine, wasn't he? He could deal with it. He could 'detach' himself. Then so could Ryou.

Ryou wasn't stupid. He knew that Ryuuji only came to him because he was desperate for someone else, and that in the dim light of the apartment and the haze of the alcohol that the dice master always drowned himself in before he came, he could pretend for a second that Ryou _was_ the someone else.

And Ryou didn't mind if Ryuuji occasionally moaned someone else's name. He could cope.

Because, in the end, this was the only way someone like Ryou Bakura was ever going to get a piece of Ryuuji Otogi. And even if it wasn't perfect, he could live with it.

Ryou supposed, ironically, that he was a selfish being after all.

It had never been about love.

It had never even been about need.

It had always been about desire.

So even if it was selfish, even if he was just desperate for more of the drug, even if it made both of them unhappy in the end, he still kept forcing himself not to care.

No. Ryou didn't have any qualms about what he was doing.

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**Hmm. Well. Bit strange, I know, but I like writing strange things. And writing romantic drabbles is always fun- I know this was very different to what I normally write, but let's just say I'm experimenting with new writing styles! ;D I quite like it because it's so ridiculously angsty, and because I can kind of see it happening.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading! :D**

**Bookworm**


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